


The Project

by BeanBunny



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/M, Fluff, High School, School, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeanBunny/pseuds/BeanBunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byakuya must work with Ibuki on a school project, but gets side tracked when some other ... ideas start coming up. Pure unadulterated fluff. SDR2 spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> There's SDR2 spoilers! This is your warning!
> 
> This can either be pre-despair or an AU, whatever makes you happier. Enjoy!

It was fall, and fall brought plenty of things -- leaves, goofy coffee drinks, cold air, and, of course, school.

Hope’s Peak academy had kindly welcomed a new freshman class in a few weeks ago. Byakuya Togami had expected that he would be admitted. Of course. He was _the_ heir to the Togami fortune -- if they were interested in the most exceptional high school students, how could they overlook him?

He kept his head up and worked to stand up straight as he navigated the halls to his locker. _That’s right, don’t look at any of them. They’re beneath you, remember? Don’t forget._

He found his locker, and began to turn the dial -- one, two three times past zero to sixteen, then to --

A thud caused him to turn to his left.

A boy was in the middle of the floor. _Shorter in stature. Seems fairly high energy. Who wears chef whites to school? He must be very dedicated to his talent._ The boy had fallen, thus the thud, and his books had sprayed all over the hallway. Byakuya wasn’t sure who he was, but he did remember him from orientation. He was probably a freshman as well, then.

Behind the boy on the floor were two older boys, sneering. “Have a nice trip?” asked one.

“See you next fall,” said the other.

Byakuya winced internally. These two bullies really must not have been very bright, to use such outdated taunts. He left his locker and turned to face the three strangers.

“This is foolishness,” he told them. “You should be above bullying a freshman. Don’t you think better of yourselves?”

“And just who are you?” said one of the bullies.

“Me? I am the one and only Byakuya Togami, of the Togami family.” He held his hand out to the boy on the floor, but didn’t take his eyes off the older boys. “I suggest you get out of here, before I use my powerful connections to -- “

“Right, whatever,” said one of the boys.

The other boy leaned down to the boy in the floor. “See you later, shorty,” he sneered, then turned and left.

The boy on the floor took Byakuya's hand, taking the help up. “Thanks, man, I owe you. So, you’re Byakuya, you said?”

Byakuya stared the boy down.

“Anyway, my name’s Teruteru. It’s good to meet you.” He held out a hand, but Byakuya merely nodded at him.

“I’m glad you’re safe, but please be more careful,” was all Byakuya replied with. Teruteru’s smile faded, and he continued down the hall, wordlessly.

Byakuya would have continued down the hall, but something caught his eye: a girl had been standing behind Teruteru. It was probably her hair that he’d noticed first. The bangs were an unnatural pink and blue, and she had somehow styled her hair into two large horns.

She looked him over too, before smiling the biggest smile he’d ever seen. _Big cheesey grin. Hair ruffles when she moves, she’s probably practiced that. Anyone who grins like that probably comes with a big personality._

She bounced up to him with a big, buoyant gait, then handed him a piece of paper. “Hi, Mister Togami!” she chirped. Her voice immediately repelled him. It was far too cheery.

He looked her over again, briefly, this time picking up that she had a whole stack of identical papers in her arms. “There’s a dance later this month, you should come!” Before he could think of a way to sneer her off, she bounced down the hallway.


	2. Third Period Class, And Then Lunch

Every freshman at Hope’s Peak had to take Language Arts, and if you were lucky, you got Mrs. Hannah.

And if you were unlucky, you got Mrs. Talbot.

And if you had no particular luck to your name, you wound up with Mrs. Jenkins, which is where Byakuya found himself in the third period of the day, in Mrs. Jenkins’ Language Arts class.

She was saying something about the beginning of the year, and how everyone should get to know each other, since it was a new school, and so on and so on. No one was really listening. Everyone had heard the same speech eight other times before, on their _other_ first days of school.

Byakuya happened to tune in when she began speaking about their assignment: “So, in order to help you get to know each other, we're all going to draw partners. You'll be expected to get to know your partner, and follow them for two weeks. I want you to keep a diary of your experience, to turn in when you finish.”

Byakuya smiled, but promptly muffled it. _Something I'm good at,_ he thought.

Mrs. Jenkins continued. “Anyway, I brought a hat today!” True to her word, she produced a black top hat from beneath the desk. Hopefully it had known a previous life as a costume hat, it was too goofy to wear seriously. “I've got everyone’s name in it, so I'll go ahead and draw.” She reached in and rustled around deeply. “All right, Teruteru, you're with Gundham …”

Byakuya didn't pay any particular attention until he heard his name. “And Ibuki, you’ll be with Byakuya.”

Who was Ibuki again? He hadn’t learned names yet. He looked around the classroom until he saw, on his left, the girl from the hallway earlier. She was the one with the horns. She waved, another huge grin across her face. He held a hand up, before putting it down and staring straight ahead. _I certainly could have done worse,_ he thought, _even if she wouldn't have been my first choice._

… his first choice was a rousing “no one,” of course, but he knew that wasn't an option.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to get to know each other,” said Mrs. Jenkins. “Go!” She waved her hands. “Go ahead and mingle.”

Other kids got up and moved about the room. Byakuya turned to look at Ibuki. He hadn't gotten up, because he suspected she was the sort to hop over on her own. Sure enough, she did just that.

“Hi! My name is Ibuki Mioda,” she said. “I think we already met, right?”

“Yes, earlier.” Byakuya looked away.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Me? _I_ am Byakuya Togami, of the Togami Family. Of course. You didn't know?”

Ibuki’s face screwed up for a moment. He kept his face flat.

“So are you the Super High School Level Affluent Progeny guy?”

“I am _the_ Super High School Level Affluent Progeny, yes.”

She paused for a moment. “I’m the Super High School Level Musician,” she replied. Togami glanced at her, then glanced away. She continued, “Punk is my favorite,” she said. “But I'll play anything. You can't pigeonhole this free bird!”

“I wasn't planning on it.”

The odd thing was, she wasn't put off at all by his coldness. She kept going. Most people tended to get awkward at this point. She leaned in close, close enough to make Togami want to lean back from her a little. “So, tell me a thing about you.”

“I'm a Super High School Level Affluent Progeny.”

“No, a _real_ thing.”

“... that is real?”

“But no, I want to know about the Byakuyaest Byakuya thing there is! Tell me something all personal-like.”

Byakuya scowled. “I'll pass.”

She grinned a sly, cheshire grin. “It’s okay. I have two weeks, I'll find out something Byakuya. I'll find out the Byakuyaest Byakuya thing there is, I will, I will.”

He kept his face flat, unamused, but she went on: “You have to tell me anyway, it’s for our assignment.”

Togami was good at keeping a poker face, but inside, he felt his heart skip a beat.

 

Mrs. Jenkins had “helpfully” passed out a list of suggestions for everyone to do together, so that they could get materials for good journal entries. She had said the standard teacher disclaimer of “don't feel limited, you can do things that are off the list, too.” One such list item was that the partners start out by eating lunch together once or twice.

So, with a hop and a bounce, Ibuki had insisted that they eat lunch together that day. Byakuya had agreed, reluctantly. He absolutely detested eating with other people, but he _did_ have an assignment to do, same as she did.

He had followed Ibuki through the lunchroom, balancing three sandwiches on his tray. Ibuki offered to find some of her friends from middle school, which he had also reluctantly agreed to. No one from his middle school had moved on to Hope’s Peak.

He sat down and looked over his plate to a small girl with the largest pigtails he'd ever seen. Next to her was a second girl with short red hair and a green jumper.

“These are my friends! This is Saijioni, and this is Koizumi. This is my partner for Mrs. Jenkins’ project, Byakuya!”

“It’s good to meet you,” said Koizumi. Togami said nothing, but sized her up quickly. _Smiles with her eyes closed. Tips her head to the left._

Saijioni turned her nose up. “I don't care who he is.” _Wrinkles her nose when she talks. High pitched. Incredible posture, has probably had some sort of athletic training._

“Good, then, I don't care who you are either.” He picked up one of his sandwiches to start eating.

“Saijioni and I are partners for the assignment,” said Koizumi. She looked defeated, but smiled weakly. “I get to spend two weeks with her.”

“And you should be happy. _Thrilled!_ ” Saijioni waved her arm. “I’m the best partner!” Koizumi raised an eyebrow and tried to smile, but it was obvious she didn't believe it.

“Are you kidding? You're so lucky, you’re Super High School Level lucky! With super girl on girl partners, you can do stuff like super sleepovers without raising the suspicions of the other classmates! I'm missing out on such luxury with a boy.” She sideyed Byakuya. “If we spent the night together and gave each other makeovers and shared secrets, the rumors wouldn’t ever stop!”

He thought he might choke on his sandwich. Byakuya couldn't stop himself from turning toward Ibuki and shooting a look that could kill. “ _Excuse me?_ I have no intention of … “ He had trouble even saying it. “Spending … the … ?”

“Hey,” said the pigtailed girl. (What was her name? He was good at faces and traits, but names were so hard.) “You could do a whole lot worse than spending the night with Ibuki.”

“When did this turn into me spending the night with -- “ He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Arguing was going to make this worse, so instead, he took another bite of sandwich. 

He stayed very quiet for the rest of lunch.

 

Lunch finished, everyone cleaned their tray up, and Byakuya began to exit the cafeteria to get to his next class.

“Hey! Wait a second!” Byakuya turned to find Ibuki chasing him.

“Wait a second for what?”

“For me!” she cheered, as she caught up to him. “What’s your next class?”

“Algebra, why?”

“No _WAY,_ me _TOO!_ Let’s walk together.”

“... why?”

Her brow furrowed for just a moment, confused. Byakuya must’ve managed to crush through her cheery disposition. “Because … I dunno … “

“Look, I'm not looking to make friends.” He stopped, turned on his heel, and faced her. “I don't _need_ friends. I’m fine alone.”

“But no one’s fine alone.”

“ _I’m fine alone._ ”

She pulled back, and for a brief moment, she might have looked shocked, or hurt. Her face changed back quickly enough, however.

“Look,” he said, “We've got this project to do together, and that’s fine, but we don't have to be best friends. Just … do something besides pester me constantly.”

Ibuki considered him for a moment, and a smile crept on her face. “You know what? By the time this is over? You, sir, are going to think that I am _not all that bad._ ”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don't think that’s happening.”

“Ah! The lady who doth protests too much only make me want to work harder!”

“Fine,” said Byakuya. “Don't be sad when it doesn’t work.”

He turned and started off, but Ibuki called after him, “Wait! I need to know something!” He turned back.

She tipped her head. “I … I don’t get your talent.”

“I already told you, didn’t I? I’m the Super High School Level Affluent Progeny.”

“Okay, sure, but what’s your _talent?_ ”

He stared for a moment. “Super High School Level Affluent Progeny.”

Ibuki tipped her head to the other side. “That’s a talent?”

“Of _course_ it’s a talent! I was chosen out of fifteen of my brothers to manage the entire conglomerate!”

“It’s just … “ Ibuki looked down. “That’s a thing, that’s not a do. You know? I was hoping your talent was something rad that you could teach me. Something like Super High School Level Knitter.”

“ _Something like Super High School Level Knitter,_ ” he repeated, because it wouldn’t process any other way.

She shrugged. “I don't know how to knit! It would have been fun. Maybe I could have even knit a huge white suit like yours!”

He thought about that for a moment, then decided to let it go. “I’m going to class,” he said. “I'll see you tomorrow,” said Byakuya, and turned to leave. He figured abruptness was going to be the only way to get rid of her.

_Journal Entry 1 --_

_Ibuki eats lunch with other girls. She likes the soup instead of the sandwiches. She didn't seem to understand what my talent was._

And that was all he cared to write, because any of his other thoughts would likely get him in trouble with Mrs. Jenkins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't intend to post so fast, I just didn't want to leave you with only a prologue! I'll make sure you get another chapter to read before Thanksgiving break!


	3. A Survey, And THen A Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's early for Thanksgiving break, but that's okay! You'll have something to read over the weekend anyway.

Ibuki and Byakuya sat across from each other, taking opposite seats on the big soft chairs in the student lounge. Byakuya leaned back in his chair, right leg crossed over his left, balancing his notebook on his legs.

Ibuki, though? _Leans forward, elbows on knees, knees are bouncing. Notebook balanced on bouncing knees. Probably not even thinking about writing. Does she ever sit still? Sits oddly symmetrical._

She waved a piece of paper up and down a few times before making it dance. Of course. One of Mrs. Jenkins’ suggestions had been to spend some time doing a short survey to get to know your partner, so Ibuki had insisted that they spend time after school doing it. Byakuya hated the idea, but he also knew that Ibuki was right -- doing the survey would look pretty good on the assignment.

Also, he had only one other entry in his journal, so that was a factor.

Byakuya made no motion toward digging out his copy of the survey. Instead, he said, “You first.”

“Okay!” She flipped the paper over, made it dance again, then made a show of holding it out arm’s length from her face. “Name!”

“Byakuya Togami.”

“Ibuki Mioda!” She gave a big wide grin and tipped her head. “Good to meet you!”

Oh, he didn't intend to play that game. “Next,” he said, flatly.

“Birthday?”

“May 5th.”

“November 27th. Sagittarius!”

Byakuya almost fussed with her, something haughty about the intelligence of people who pay attention to star signs, but he then realized that if he did, this would take longer. “Next.”

“Talent.”

“Affluent progeny.”

“I'm still pretty sure that that’s a rotten talent.”

Deep breath. He had to spend two weeks with her, maybe a little patience would make everything more tolerable. “It is a _wonderful_ talent. Do you understand exactly how much my name is worth?”

Ibuki yawned. Byakuya tried to tamp down his feelings of shock -- who wouldn't be impressed by the wealth and power of the Togami empire!? But instead, she replied, “Do you _not_ understand that I already have gazillions of dollars?”

“I … what?” He hadn't thought about it at all, actually. He just assumed she was worth less than him because, well, she wasn't a Togami. Simple as that.

“I’m an international rock goddess. I made millions on my last tour alone. I _have_ money. Money’s super boring. I’m more interested in what else is up your super starched suit sleeve.”

… he hadn't thought of that, that Ibuki probably also had money. She wasn't impressed by him? It … that almost hurt. 

Almost. You know, if he was going to care what she thought or think about her opinion of him.

Which he was _not._

He made a small show of scribbling “punk musician” down in his notebook before saying, “Next question.”

“Favorite color?”

“Green.”

“Stripes.”

“... that isn't a color.”

Ibuki pointed to her hair. “It’s totally a color when I wear it. All of my stuff has Ibuki stripes on it.” She held up her notebook to prove her point, and sure enough, she had colored the notebook pink with a blue stripe to match her hair.

“This is going to go very slowly if you've got some ridiculous answer for every question.”

“It’s not ridiculous. It’s Ibuki striped.”

Which was, of course, arguably ridiculous. “... _next question._ ”

“Do you already know anyone at Hope’s Peak?”

“No one.”

Ibuki looked up from her notebook. “You know no one?”

“No one.”

Her eyes widened. “... were you scared to leave all your friends in middle school?”

“I told you, I don't need friends.” 

“I smell horse crap. Everyone needs friends.”

“Look, maybe that’s my _other_ talent, being friendless. What about you?”

“Mahiru and Saijioni went to my middle school.”

“Perfect.” He wrote it down.

Eventually, the questions were over. Byakuya stood up to leave. “I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, then.”

Ibuki put a hand up. “Hey, wait.”

He turned back toward her, and she continued: “I know you answered all these questions, but … I dunno, it doesn't feel like enough?”

“Enough? Look, we went through the questions, I gave you answers. We're out of questions. It’s fine.” He spoke plainly, as he didn't see the problem.

“True, but … I thought I'd learn something cool about you.”

“My favorite color’s green, that’s cool enough.”

“I meant like your level five tragic back story where you were shipwrecked for five months and survived on nothing but sand and coconut milk.”

“I … what?”

“Uh huh! And that’s why you're so cold to everyone, because the reason you were shipwrecked was that the captain of the boat was your lover, but she betrayed you for another man -- “

That right there was enough to fluster him, but he quickly tamped it down. “Stop right there,” he said, and leaned down to her, speaking slowly. “I don't have any kind of tragic backstory. I answered the questions honestly."

"Do I need to maybe get deeper into your conversation tree?"

What was she even ... ? It didn't matter. " _I’ll see you tomorrow,_ ” he said, through gritted teeth.

Her eyes widened, and for probably the first time since she'd known him, she didn't respond. He took this as his cue to leave.

A few steps away, he heard a small, “Bye,” from behind. He looked over his shoulder, to see Ibuki waving meekly. It occurred to him to wave back, but he didn't, and instead walked off …

… only feeling a small twinge of guilt.

 

_Journal 2 --_

_Ibuki likes stripes. She has two friends from middle school that now attend Hope’s Peak, and she’s been on music tours worldwide. Her birthday is November 27th._

That was all he cared to write. It was short, and it was awful, but it was enough to keep him from getting a zero in class.

He didn't feel right writing what he _was_ thinking -- how bad he felt at the end of their conversation. Had he really been that mean? He was right, though, was the thing. He'd done the assignment. There wasn't anything else.

And, to be quite frank, he didn't want Ibuki digging around to try and find anything else.

It wasn't personal. He didn't want anyone digging around.

As a small concession to Ibuki, he appended his journal entry with,

_She says she’s a sagittarius._

 

 

“Jeez, Ibuki, he’s totally harshing the buzz in here,” said Pigtails. “Who is he, again, and why do I have to look at him?”

“That’s my school project, remember?”

He chose to ignore the fact that he was apparently a project and not a person. Byakuya turned away, doing everything he could to not care about anything he was seeing.

Which was pretty easy, actually, because he was in a school gymnasium, and no one has ever cared about anything that has gone on in one of those.

Ibuki had had some sort of planning meeting after school, and insisted Byakuya come along. Byakuya had come along, unwillingly, but only because he only had two thin, sad entries in his journal. Getting an F on a project did not fit a member of the Togami family.

He did not, however, feel obligated to care, nor talk with anyone. Instead, as the group of girls sat down on the gym floor, right on the Hope’s Peak emblem, Byakuya had secluded himself off on the bleachers.

What was it Ibuki had said the meeting was about? Some sort of dance. Oh, right -- when he saw her on the first day of school, she was carrying fliers for a dance, wasn’t she?

He listened half-heartedly, but he had no interest in decorations or what flavor the punch was or who the DJ would be. (He perked up only briefly when one of the girls suggested that Ibuki would play, but she was against the idea. “I don't want to play, for once,” she said. “I want to listen.”)

The meeting, of course, also got mildly interesting when Pigtails started hitting the purple haired girl over the head for some suggestion Byakuya didn't quite hear. He didn't care why she was getting hit, per se, he was mostly just interested in the violence.

When the meeting finished, Ibuki hopped over to the bleachers to collect Byakuya. “So?” she bounced.

“... so?”

“Aren't you excited?”

“For what?”

She deflated a little. “Didn't you listen? Did all the stuffing from your shirt spread to your ears?!”

“Nope.”

“Aren't you excited for the big dance?”

“Oh.” He turned his nose up, slightly. “I don’t go to dances.”

“Is it because you're too busy being a stuffed shirt?”

“... why not.” He began to load his bag up with his notebook and pen.

“I’m going.”

“Who with? I didn't know you had a boyfriend.” He thought about it. “Or girlfriend. Partner.” He screwed his face up. He had momentarily forgotten that he didn't care about any of this.

“Pfft. I don't need to go with a _man._ I'm a strong, independent woman.”

“Great. I hear your type roars a lot,” he said, turning to leave her.

Over his shoulder, he heard her voice: “Just think about coming, okay?”

And then, a few steps later, she called after him again, “It’s not like I'm asking you to come with me!”

 

_Journal 3 --_

_Ibuki’s helping to plan a dance. She’s not playing at it, however. She is excited to go to the dance, and intends to go alone._

He looked at his entry. It was, again, way too thin.

… he should have asked her why she even wanted to go to a dance alone. Or why she didn't want to play. What did she want to do, then? She said she wanted to listen, and that was befitting of a musician, probably, but there was likely more to it.

_You're not supposed to be thinking like this,_ he thought to himself before shutting the journal with a small papery thud. _Just let her do her thing and be done with it._

Before he turned in for the night that night, he found himself pulling up YouTube on his phone.

He would never actually say it out loud, but thinking about Ibuki playing a dance had made him curious -- he'd never actually heard Ibuki play anything. If he was going to do an entire project on her, probably he should have a passing familiarity with her music. Just as he figured, her band had a VEVO.

He had to close it as soon as he opened it. It was … it was _noisy._


	4. Sidewalk Art

Bang bang bang.

"Byakuya?"

Bang bang bang.

"Byakuyaaaaaa!"

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Byakuya shuffled under his covers. His room was dark, he was warm, and more importantly, _it was Saturday morning._ Why in the world would anyone be bothering him?

"Byakuya, which rhymes with ooga ooga, but not Lisa Kudro!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Right. _Her._

He found his robe (whether or not he liked her was irrelevant, no one deserved that sort of sight that early in the morning) and answered the door.

There she was, bright eyed, fully dressed, and holding a small box.

" _What._ " Should he have been nicer? Of course he should have, but it was too early and too Saturday to think like that.

"I’m sorry for waking your roommate!"

"He hasn't moved in yet, the only person you woke up was me." (Byakuya had wondered about his lack of roommate, but when he asked, he was told that his roommate was having some medical procedures done and would come to Hope's Peak later in the school year.)

"Oh! Then I'm sorry for waking up just you! Nice robe, by the way."

Byakuya pulled the robe tighter around him and gritted his teeth. "What do you need?"

"It's a glorious Saturday with lots of time and lots of sunshine! We've got all day to work on our assignment!"

"We don't really _need_ all day, Ibuki. I'm sure that writing down in my journal that you saw me in my bathrobe would be sufficient." Right after he said that, he realized that he wasn't sure how Mrs. Jenkins would quite take such a story.

"No, but really! It's on the suggestion sheet! We do one thing I likes,” she pointed to herself, thumbs first, very theatrically, “and one thing you likes." She poked him in the chest. 

She held the paper away from her face and pretended to adjust her non-existent glasses. "Journal about the experience," she read off in a fake-important voice.

"That's a terrible impression."

"Oh, what do you know about impressions?" She shoved the box toward Byakuya. "I pick first, and I pick covering the quad with sidewalk chalk. I'll meet you outside when you put on clothes! Unless you want to show off to the rest of Hope’s Peak." She slyly elbowed him.

He scowled. "And what if I don't?"

“Then I guess you'll be outside naked. It takes a confident man to -- “

“ _And what if I don’t come outside_ is what I meant.”

“Oh! It doesn’t matter. Your slippers were in the doorway, until I stole them while I was talking to you. You'll have to come follow me to get them back.”

What? He looked down, and sure enough, his slippers were gone. How did she do that? By the time he looked up, she had turned around and was waving at Byakuya over her shoulder.

And that was how Byakuya found himself in the quad in search of Ibuki. Thankfully, he was dressed this time.

Ibuki bounced over to him, waving both slippers, one in each hand. Byakuya snatched them away.

"Perfect. Now, before we begin, do you have any special chalk games you like to play?"

"I don't know any chalk games."

"Good! Then we're playing portrait."

"... I'll watch," he said. There was a nearby raised bed with a lovely brick border, so he walked over and sat on it.

She looked surprised. "You don't want to play with me right now?" Then, a wicked grin spread across her face. _Changes facial expressions incredibly quickly, bounces between emotions and ideas._ "You'll will want to play when you see the portrait I plan on giving you!"

Taking a piece of chalk, she got to work. "We start with the head," she said, drawing a large blue circle on the sidewalk. "See, because without the head? You don't have a face, and then it gets very much impossible to play portrait. Byakuya has two eyes, of course, and he stuffs them behind glasses." She traded to pink for the glasses, then back to blue. "You're going to need lots of big fluffy hair, because you don't believe in hair cuts."

"Excuse me? I'll have you know, my barber -- "

"No worries, piles of big fluffy hair suits you," said Ibuki. "My compliments to your barber, A+ would groom again. Oh! I should also draw the suit, the suit also suits you. Is that a pun?" she asked, as she scribbled a little triangle body, a small tie, and two small stick arms and stick legs.

She hopped back away to the small ledge Byakuya was sitting on, bounced up on it, and stood up next to where he was sitting to admire her work. She stuck her thumb out and squinted, looking at Togami, then her art, then back and forth between the two.

"It needs highlights."

"I don't have highlights."

"Byakuya needs highlights." She hopped down, then took two pieces of chalk and proceeded to give Chalk Byakuya purple and blue highlights.

"... Ibuki, that looks ridiculous."

"Don't be silly, everyone looks rad with colors in their hair." Her face lit up, and she clapped her hands together. "You know!? I could give _real life_ you hair colors!"

"Absolutely not."

"Please? You would totally look _quite handsome_ with blue and purple highlights."

He didn't like the sound of that _quite handsome._

"I said no."

"I could do it right now with the chalk! It would totally work in blonde."

"I said no!"

Ibuki bounced as she sat down next to him. "Then what if I give you hair cones?"

" _No._ "

Ibuki smiled, slyly, then reached up ever so slowly to Byakuya's head. He instantly started swatting, causing her to recoil her hands with a giggle.

"My hair is _mine,_ and it's going to stay neat and blonde _all day, thank you._ "

"Neatly? You probably get up an hour early every day to tousle it in that fussy-messy-perfect sort of boy way.” He scowled at her instead of responding, so she went on. “Okay, then _we_ are officially Making A Deal. I'll sadlysadly leave your hair all boring-like if you play portrait."

"No." He stood up. "I'm leaving."

"Ah! No, it’s fine, I get it," she said, long, drawn out and sing-song.

He scowled. "You get _what?_ "

She put her arms behind her back. "I get it. I found something you aren't so hot at, so you’re going to be _cold_ and not play." She spun around and took a few steps away. "That's fine, I wouldn't expect a super high school level super boring _affluffant pro-guinea pig_ to understand something like art anyway -- "

" _AFFLUENT PROGENY._ And don't be stupid, I know plenty about art!"

She was irritating. She was under his skin. What in the world was making him argue, and not walk off as she deserved?! It was worse that he _cared_ , and that _truly_ got under his skin. It was aggravating him so badly that he was amazed he didn't have a rash.

She kept her back to him, but pointed to the chalk on the sidewalk. "Then prove it. Or, I might remind you, I know where you sleep now, and I'm going to give you _oh wow such horns_."

He grunted, snatched a piece of chalk out of her hands, and ambled over to the area next to her drawing. His canvas. It must be considered carefully, of course.

He sketched out a head, and a skeletal frame, and began to fill in some details from there. Large eyes, thin figure, sharp nose --

"You think too hard."

"What do you mean?"

"I think this will take up all of our Saturdays forever at this rate."

"Look, first you fussed that I wasn't drawing at all, now you're fussing that I'm concentrating _too_ much on the thing that you insisted I do. Which is it?"

Ibuki looked up, and to the left for a second. Byakuya knew he had her. Defeated, she pantomimed zipping her mouth shut, then threw away the imaginary key before standing there with her hands over her mouth.

He turned back to his work and continued. He'd never admit he had the most fun drawing the hair, making it go everywhere. He even sort of liked drawing the hair cones.

When he finished, he stood back, hands on his hips, and looked over both pieces. For all his effort, his work was _maybe_ marginally better than Ibuki's. _At least I had a process,_ he said to reassure himself.

Both drawings were crudely drawn, sure, but it added something to it. They went together well, with their spotty chalk lines, and their pastel colors. They were .... they were cute. Not that he would ever find anything ever cute, but if he ever did, this would probably make the cut. Probably. 

Ibuki began to circle both drawings, slowly at first, but after a few rounds, she began to skip around them. The skipping turned into a full on run, a screeching halt, and a big spin before she sprung into the air. "I _love_ it!"

"You do?"

"Byakuya does excellent work! Just like he said he did! He should consider taking up a whole other talent."

He scratched the back of his head. "I think I'm good being an heir, thanks." But, it wasn't bad, was it? "We look good together," he said absentmindedly.

Ibuki stuck her tongue out. "Not like that."

"What? Oh! ... no, not like that."

"Right."

A beat fell between them. He fished his phone out of his pocket so that he could take a picture. "This will actually be pretty good to put in my project," he said. "I can email you a picture so you can use it too."

"So what do you want to do?"

"... hmm?"

"Remember? That was the deal. Me picks one, you picks one. Me picked sidewalk chalk, so you picks _blank?_ "

Oh. Oh dear.

“I'm not picking,” he said curtly.

“What? Why not? Don’t you have a thing that you like to do mostest?”

“Nope.”

She looked at him exasperatedly. “Yes you do. Everyone does, and you're part of everyone, so yes you do. It’s just nature. Come on, what is it?”

“We're not doing this.”

“We're doing this because I want to know. Is it reading?”

“Ibuki, I mean it.”

“You look like you read expensive books. Okay, drawing? Paper craft? Swimming?”

“... _do I look like a swimmer._ ”

She shrugged, so he went on: “I'm not picking. You have a wonderful Saturday. I’m going to catch up on the sleep you stole.” After thinking about it briefly, he figured out that he should add, “Please _don't_ join me in bed, thanks.” He very pointedly turned away from her and started walking off …

… which was on purpose, because he didn't want to talk to her about this any more.

… because if he _did_ keep talking to her, she might find out.

 

_Journal 4 --_

_Ibuki and I drew each other on the sidewalk, as per her suggestion. It turns out that it’s her favorite “chalk game.” She’s not too bad at art. She really loved the drawing I did.”_

He had printed out the picture, cut it out, and pasted it in the journal. Actually, the chalk on the sidewalk, and the pastel colors, they all made an adorable picture. … he would die if Ibuki knew that he thought anything was adorable.

He wished he hadn't said that they looked good together. That had just slipped out, but it sounded … wrong. How embarrassing.


	5. Inside The Cage

It was after school, and Byakuya was going to attempt to go back to his dormitory.

He got as far as the front steps of Hope’s Peak, too, which was quite impressive, before Ibuki chased him down, calling the whole way, “Byakuya! Byakuuuuuuya!” in a sing song voice that could really only belong to her.

He turned around “ _What._ ”

“I did some googling last night to find out more about Byakuya!” She must of seen the concern across his face, so she continued, “Oh, you're suddenly scared! Do you think I found your secret stash of fanfiction? Or even your most secret _nuuuuuuuuuuuudes!?_ ”

Byakuya scowled. “There are no nudes of me online!”

“Of course there aren’t. I looked.”

“I … _what?_ ”

“But anyway! I found all sorts of stuffs about you! And I can't believe that you kept your most bestest secret from me! _I CAN’T. BELIEVE_.” She stood on her tiptoes and leaned into his face, their noses almost touching.

His heart skipped a beat. She seemed to linger, it was making him uncomfortable.

The easiest thing to do was to play it cool, to see what she knew before he gave anything away. “What, what exactly is my most bestest secret?”

“You should have _told_ me you played violin!”

Oh. Of course. Byakuya relaxed and straightened himself up, glad that Google had told her something true and easy. He could see where she might be interested in his musical talent. “Of course I play.”

“Then you're going to play a song for me!”

“But I don’t have my violin in my dorm.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Then how do you practice?”

“... it just hasn't been sent yet, is all.” It was a pretty good excuse. Byakuya wasn't going to say it out loud, but he was a Super High School Level Affluent Progeny, not a Super High School Level Violinist. There was no way on Earth that he was a better musician than Ibuki.

“We'll find a violin in the instrument storage,” said Ibuki. Much to his surprise, she took Byakuya's hand and began to pull him away. “Then you can play me something nice!”

 

Togami had no idea that Hope’s Peak had an instrument cage. In retrospect, it made sense, since if you're going to have talented students, at least some would be musicians, and at that point, you'd need to have instruments around for them to play.

He'd also never been in a real instrument cage. He was surprised that it was so dark and filthy. He was surprised that _any part_ of Hope’s Peak was filthy. The school was supposed to be the top of the top, shouldn't that mean that the facilities were, at the very least, clean? There wasn't a Super High School Level maid running around? Or some sort of overeager preparatory student?

He turned his nose up. _Filth._

To match the thick layer of dust everywhere, the cage was also dark, lit only by one hanging light bulb that Ibuki had to turn on by a small chain. The air hung just a little heavy and hot, thick with dust, as if the school’s circulation system didn't quite reach this room.

The room was divided into sections by cheap chain link dividers, which is probably how the room earned the name “cage.” Each cage had a few shelves with a few hard cases dotted on them. Byakuya could make out the various outlines, which allowed him to guess the contents: trombones, french horns, the list went on. The only thing not in a case was a string bass and a timpani in the corner, both looking sad and unused as if they both knew they were too big to play.

Ibuki dove into the cage on the far end, almost head first. “This is where the string instruments are kept!” she called back over her shoulder as Byakuya approached. “Everyone knows that string cage? Best cage.”

Ibuki dug around two cellos, one with a most unfortunate hole in the top, and several guitar cases (“Acoustic,” she said. “All guitars are my six string sisters, but acoustic guitars don't have the _raw power_ I like.”) until she came up for air holding a violin case. Byakuya raised an eyebrow.

“Now you can play something for me!” She bounced. “Oh, the crowd wonders what he'll pick! Something slow, something fast, something old, something new?”

She thrust the case toward Byakuya, who caught it as it hit his chest with a solid thud. He took the case, and looked down at it, then back up to her.

“Why in the world is this so important to you?”

“Because!” She smiled a half smile. _That smile only comes out at certain times. Maybe it’s something she only does with people she feels comfortable with. Will need to watch for it more._

“That’s all I get? You grill me on stuff all the time.”

She looked to the side, then back up. “Sharing music is the nicest thing a person can do for another person. Sharing music you play is the _super_ nicest thing! I don't know too many other musicians, so I was excited to meet another one.” She paused, as if to collect her thoughts for a moment. “So I was just kind of hoping I'd get a mini concert is all.”

All right. It was going to hurt to say, but it was true. He finally mustered up enough inside and replied: “You know I'm not as good as you are.”

“I don’t care.”

Well, that was certainly an answer. He looked at the case, trying to think of something else to say, when Ibuki let out a little squeal. “Byakuya couldn't possibly be _shy,_ could he?”

“What? Shy? Of course I’m not -- “

“How _cute!_ ” She swished right up close to him, absolutely getting in his personal space. Her grin was huge. “Mr. Super Big Super Rich Kid is all _super shy_ over playing for tiny little me!” Clap clap clap. “Will he turn pink? Will he stutter? Will he -- “

Byakuya scowled. She'd done it, she'd gotten under his skin, _again,_ and he'd lost himself. He sat the case on the ground, and opened it up to reveal an old violin. In one swift motion, he pulled both instrument and bow out, brandished it on his shoulder, and arced the bow toward the string to draw the first note --

\-- only to completely miss. He took a moment to actually _look_ at the violin this time, and now he realized that the violin was completely devoid of strings. Wide-eyed, he looked down into the case, where saw the bridge laying in the bottom.

He tried to straighten his composure as he looked back at Ibuki, tried to remove any trace of surprise, but he knew that it wasn’t working. Disappointment crossed her face for a moment, briefly, then left as quickly as it came. “It’s your thought that counts most. Thanks for trying,” she said. It was an obvious attempt to not sound down, even if it didn't work.

He lowered the violin, deflated, before remembering himself and putting it in rest position. “Some other time, then.”

“Hey, let me see the violin.”

He handed it over. She held it by the hulls as if it were a baby. “It doesn't look that different from a guitar. I could try restringing it.” She smiled up at him again, but this time, it was more mischievous. “I'll get my song someday, I promise.” She kept her gaze on him as she knelt, cased the violin, and then stood up. With a quick, girlish turn on her heel, she wiggled her nose in the air and left the cage.

Byakuya did not want to admit that he felt super relieved.

 

_Journal 5 --_

_Today Ibuki showed me the instrument cage at Hope’s Peak. I had never been. She had googled me and found out that I played violin, so she wanted to outfit me with a violin in the cage. It does, however, lack strings. Ibuki promises to fix it up for me. I can't wait to play it._

He looked over his paper. Right, that sounded right. He surely wasn't going to tell Mrs. Jenkins that playing for Ibuki … scared him.

Not that he really was scared.

(He was.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! It would make me happy if you bookmarked this story!


	6. Playing Together

Byakuya had gotten a note in his locker that afternoon:

_The best room at Hope’s Peak is the bestest! Also, the music room at Hope’s Peak is the musicest! Perhaps you should meet me there after school for a spectacular thing you can write for your project!_

He assumed that meant that she wanted to meet him in the music room after school, so that’s where he showed up when the bell rang.  
It looked like a real concert hall, with the plush folding seats bolted to the floor. In the back was an actual stage, with fancy red velvet curtains drawn back to reveal a grand piano.

How often, exactly, did the school hold concerts? It seemed like a lot of fuss for something only a few students might use. Besides, Ibuki was the Super High School Level Musician, and this did … not seem like her sort of venue.

As he entered, he saw Ibuki sitting on the edge of the stage, tuning up a cherry red guitar. Her feet swung playfully off the edge.

“Byakuya!” she cheered. “You came!”

“So, did you want to play for me?” She was holding a guitar. It was so obvious that he honestly even felt dumb saying it out loud.

“What? Sort of. I thought about it, sure, but then I had a better thought about it, and decided instead that I should get the song that I asked for.”

“Excuse me?”

She grinned, then put her guitar down. She twisted behind herself, and produced the violin case that they had found in the cage. “I fixed it! Turns out it’s more or less like stringing a guitar.”

Byakuya kept a poker face, but before he could think about it, the words, “Oh. Oh, I don't know,” nervously sputtered out of his mouth.

“ _Please_ play for me? You're not still scared of me being a massive super star rock god from the planet Rock Godia in the Lead Guitar system, are you?”

“What? Of course not! I mean, I never was -- ”

With a hop, Ibuki shoved herself off the stage, and carried the violin case over to Togami. “I don't care how good or not good you are.”

“I’m not not good, I’m a _fine --_ ”

Ibuki ignored him and continued. “Playing for other people is the nicest thing I can think of. It lets me see your insides. Not the gross ones, I mean, but the touchey feeley ones.” She looked serious. “So please, let me touch you on your insides.”

“... you did not just say that.”

“No, really, sharing your insides is nice. That’s all I want, is your niceness. Please? I won't leave you alone until you do!”

He considered it. When it was put like that, he _really_ didn't want to do it. On the other hand, there was always the possibility that she actually wouldn't stop. Maybe it would be okay to just … get it over with.

He took the case, placed it on the floor, undid the latches, and removed the violin and bow. This time, he gave it a quick look over to make sure it had all of its parts. It did, thankfully, so he set to work adjusting the shoulder rest.

Ibuki bounced a little. “Really, really, you're going to play! This is the most perfectest thing!”

Her joy didn't register with him at the moment, he was thinking too hard. He took a moment to try and remember everything from his method book -- button to the ear, then on the shoulder, place the middle of the bow to the middle of the playing area of the strings, and … !

He worked his hardest to remember the last song in his method book to play. Ibuki let out a cheer right as Byakuya finished and removed his bow from the string.

“It was perfect! Wonderful!” She bounced again. _She bounces a lot._ “Oh, you don’t know how happy you've made me! You should bow.”

She was almost making him feel … was bashful the word? The attention was a bit much. Either way, he bowed.

“I remember that song from when I first started learning how to guitar. _Chorus of the Huntsman,_ right?”

“You're familiar with it?” Byakuya started for a moment. Was Ibuki going to figure out that he was that much of a beginner?

“Of course Ibuki knows it. Watch.” She hopped back to the stage, mounted it with one leap, and collected her guitar. Byakuya saw her plug the guitar into an amp, press a few foot pedals, and then begin to copy his song exactly.

Except for all of the effects running through the amp and the whammy bar at the end, but, he figured, Ibuki has to be herself.

He searched for something to say. “Oh. Huh. I … I probably should have played something you were unfamiliar with, then.”

“No, no, it’s perfect! Familiar songs are easier to improvise with! You improvise too, right?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Improvising is the best, it really truly is. A+ highly recommended, and I'd give it Ibuki’s Stamp Of Approval. It’s how anyone learns new stuff on instruments. Watch,” she said, and went through the melody again, this time doubling each note.

“I … don’t think I can play that fast.” Byakuya wasn't a fan of this. Ibuki must have already sussed out that his skills were lacking, but he was hoping that maybe she wouldn't figure out exactly how lacking they were.

“Then play it double slow,” she said. “Or make each note a quarter note or something rad.” Ibuki’s face lit up. “I have an especially awesome idea! Let me harmonize while you play the melody, okay?”

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” he said, still unsure, but he put the violin to his shoulder and began to play.

Ibuki stopped him after two measures and fussed, because he wasn’t _improvising_ enough. So he fussed back (“You didn't say improvise, you said play the melody!”), and then started again. Byakuya decided, at first, that his improvisation would simply be slurring all the notes in one measure together, which seemed to earn a pass.

At first, Ibuki just played chords under Byakuya, but as they went, she managed to pick out a counter melody. Byakuya got so busy listening to her that he stopped playing for a second.

Watching her play was fascinating. She made it look like the most natural thing in the world. The way she moved, the way her fingers wiggled between notes, the way her hair moved -- he wasn't sure why he was watching her, but he didn't care to stop.

Ibuki noticed and put her guitar down. “No, no, keep playing. It was getting good. You have to hold your own if you think you can be a good musician.”

He thought about scowling, but instead put his violin back up on his shoulder and kept going. He was _not_ going to admit to how much concentration it was taking to keep to his part while trying to listen to Ibuki. … he liked what she was playing, he liked it much better than what he was playing, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

At the end of the song, when he hit one final open D, Ibuki took her hand off the guitar briefly ( _Can you do that?_ he thought to himself) to motion to him to hold the note. He did so, which allowed her to add a few bars of a riff at the end of the song. She cut him off, and they put their instruments down.

Instantly, she flopped backwards on the stage and pedaled her feet in the air with a squeal. (He diverted his eyes, he wasn't looking to see any panties today.) “That was _PERFECT!_ ” she said as she sat up. “Absolutely perfecter than perfect in every perfect way I know! I've wanted someone to play with like that for a very long while!"

She propped herself up on her elbows, her face screwing up into something thoughtful, before going on. "Not play with _like that,_ I mean, just to play music with. Like that. Like you and me."

"I don't need anyone to play wi -- " Byakuya started, but then thought about it. "No, you know what? Never mind that, I had fun too."

"Perfect! That makes the perfecter perfect thing even more fun, that you were also into it! The you part is the best part anyway.”

“... explain.”

“When you make up stuff, it’s yours, and it’s no one else’s. Improvising is like sharing a big chunk of yourself, your _inside_ self with someone else. It's even more insider than just playing for someone. It’s unique, and no one can imitate it. It’s the mostest specialest gift there is.”

Togami kept a poker face. 

“See, but now I've got something of you,” she said. “I’ve got your insides!” She cackled. “It’s much less nasty than it sounds.”

He … didn't like the sound of that. His, err, “insides” were his, and he did not intend to give them up easily.

It did occur to him, however, that he could retaliate: “So, this means that I’ve got something from inside you too, right?”

“Of course,” she replied. “Fair’s fair. But I'm different, my nose isn't so far in the air. You can jump on inside me any time you like!”

Seeing his eyes widen, she quickly added, “Not like that.”

Ibuki pushed herself off the stage, landing on her feet. "Most people won't play with me. Most people are afraid, because of my talent. You know, like how spooked you were.”

“I wasn’t --”

“Oh, you totes were.” She ignored him and went on. “I don't care if they're talented, though, I just need some fun like that. Do you ever feel that way?"

"Do I ever feel _what_ way?"

"Being a super high school level stuffed shirt must mean that people are afraid of you," she explained. "But you probably want to ... stack dollars up or whatever it is you do."

He stuck his nose in the air. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh. Methinks this might be like in the movies where you act all scary scared guy tough, but underneath you have a big heart of gold." She coyly put her arms back behind her back and eyed him. "Tell me how many children a year you save from diseases and how many puppies you rehome!"

"... none!"

"Right. I don't buy it." She grinned, widely. "Now that I taught you muy muy musica, maybe you should teach you other stuff, too! Maybe I could punk rock out your outfit!"

"Absolutely not."

"Absolutely totally yes! We could keep the suit, but tye dye it black, very Jerry Garcia -- “

“ _No!_ The best tailors in the world made this suit for me!”

"Ah, you're that sort about your clothes? All right, never mind. I'll just have to settle for teaching you how to play punk rock violin." She turned around and climbed back on the stage to retrieve her case. "Either way," she said, sliding the instrument in, "I will have much fun tonight writing this all down in my handy dandy homework notebook."

Byakuya's eyes widened. That was right, he had forgotten. He was going to have to write something about this in his assignment. ... it hit him that even if he spun the whole incident in a favorable way -- a way in which he played violin beautifully and then turned heel and left before playing with someone lesser -- Ibuki would record something a little more ... honest in hers.

She probably would spin it so that it looked like they both played a concert on the backs of unicorns while rainbows flew out from between their butt cheeks. _Yuck._

"Hey, wait."

"Mmm?" With the guitar on her back, she hopped off the stage.

"When you write up your assignment tonight … could you ... um ... ?"

"No worries! I know what you're going to say.”

“You do?”

“Mmmhmm, fake grumps are predictable. I will do my best to make you sound like a super hardcore pro super high school level violinist!"

And with that, she bounced out of the room, leaving Byakuya behind.

That was kind of her.

 

_Journal 6 --_

_Ibuki and I played music together today._

He thought about it. That was really all he cared to tell Mrs. Jenkins.

But …

_I had a lot of fun and she taught me how to improvise._

Why not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this variation on the classic "Ibuki writes a song for Byakuya." Bookmark it if you liked it!


	7. Gym Class

Byakuya tried pretty hard in gym class. He was absolutely not good at anything they ever did in there, but he figured that was a good enough reason to try hard, right? Not that it got him anywhere.

However, Track and Field day wasn’t his area of expertise. That … was putting it kindly.

He had gone to the nurses’ office prior and faked a knee injury to get a note out of gym class today. The gym teacher had asked that he dress out, of course, but he had been allowed to sit in the bleachers while the other students raced.

It wasn't a bad deal, really. The day was sunny, and slightly cool with that sort of bite that fall air had to it. He had picked some bleachers that were a little higher up, to put some distance between himself and the other students. He didn't want anyone pestering him about his “injury”. There was a particularly annoying nurse student somewhere in the crowd. He especially worried about her coming in and doing whatever it was that she did and accidentally outing him as a liar.

Besides, sitting higher up let him see the racers.

Right now, four students were racing on the track, but two of them were almost non entities in the race. The real entertainment was watching the competition between the large black haired fellow and the tall girl with the larger … he didn't care to finish the thought. Either way, they were fiercely competitive, and the way they fought and tore made him laugh.

You know, inside. He tried to keep his patented Stoic Togami Face on the outside.

The race finished, the girl had won, and the guy started fussing about something as they walked off the track. He couldn't hear it. Either way, it was time for four new students to come to the starting line.

Oh, one of them was Ibuki. WIth her was Pigtails, who looked even tinier in her gym clothes, Redhead, and a tall blonde girl that he hadn't paid much attention to previously. _Seems like the sort that is always smiling. Is she saying something to Pigtails? She’s acting awfully gracious. It’s probably lost on Pigtails._

The gym teacher started them off, and they began to run. Ibuki pulled out ahead of the other three. Actually, she pulled out _far_ ahead. He sat up.

She never mentioned she was fast. She'd mention a hundred other things about doing hair highlights and Fender versus Gibson and the most punk way to lace a converse, but _wow,_ she was really fast. She was a good five or so feet ahead of the other girls, and the distance kept increasing.

Watching her move was … it was beautiful, really. It was the sort of thought you never told anyone else on the planet that you might have even thought about thinking about, but it was true. Her legs pumped both with a hard consistency and a fluid grace that made it no wonder she had taken the lead.

He caught himself watching her hair, the way it streamed behind her, the way the colors mixed. It looked fluffy. Did the wind catch it, or was it her own speed?

She crossed the finish line, did a cartwheel, and greeted the other girls with a big smile. He’d seen her smile before, but now he was actually watching it. She offered the other girls a high five. Pigtails turned her nose up, Redhead chased after Pigtails, but the blonde girl took her up on it, and they clapped hands above their heads.

He felt funny.

Luckily, she sat down. The next race was all boys, which gave Togami plenty of time and motivation to forget anything that was going on in his head.

After class, Togami had expected to go back to the locker room and change before going on to History, but Ibuki bounded up to him right as he set foot on the stairs to the locker room.

“Hey, hey, you aren't hurt, are you?” she asked, as he turned around.

“I … it’s my knee. I can’t run today.”

A wicked grin spread on her face. “Can I kiss it and make it better?”

All he managed was to sputter out, “No thanks.”

“No, but freals.” She clasped her hands in front of herself. “I was hoping you’d run today. I kind of wanted to see you run. It’s fun, you know?”

“I’m … not much of a track guy.” 

“But running is my favorite when I’m not musicing.” She spun herself in a little circle. 

“You practice, don’t you? You were really fast out there.” He reprimanded himself. _You’re losing it, you're not working hard enough at this. You don't say that sort of stuff to her._

“Ooooh, a _compliment!_ ” She stopped spinning. “Such a rare one, coming from a big scary Byakuya!”

Oh, so she noticed, huh. Whoops.

“I _do_ practice, I practice a lot. I have so much energy, sometimes I just go outside and run and run and run. It’s a great hobby.” She changed the subject. “Someday we're going to do something _you’re_ good at, if you’ll ever tell me what that is.”

“What about wearing a suit? Because that’s what I'm about to go do.”

“Really? Because your gym uniform tee shirt is an altogether new experience for everyone in class! It’s a good look on you.”

The compliment hit him hard enough to stun. His eyes widened, and his mouth hung open, because he wasn't sure what to say. Did she just … ?

He shut his mouth, and searched for something to say or do, but it was such a shock to the system that he couldn't think of a recovery.

She saw his embarrassment, which of course made it worse, because she became shy too. It might have been the first time in her entire life. They both looked down at their feet for a moment.

“Erm, see you later,” she finally said, in a small voice.

Right before she turned away, he managed to choke out a hurried, “You look good too!” She did not reply, however.

He looked around quickly, wondering how many people heard that, before covering his face with his hand. He needed to get out of this gym uniform that he apparently looked so good in.

_Journal 7 --_

_I found out that Ibuki is a good runner. Maybe next time I’ll run with her._

It was a total lie, but he wasn't about to tell the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please bookmark it if you liked it!


	8. Outside

_Rarely_ did Togami go walking in the outdoor commons area. Lately, though, he’d been a mess of nervous energy. He couldn’t figure out why. He’d run out of snacks to eat and things to read in his dorm room, though, and a walk was the only thing he could think of to clear his mind.

He wasn’t much of an outdoors person, but even he had to admit to liking the outdoor commons area. It was well-kept, of course (the preparatory students would sometimes work on the landscaping, possibly in the hope that one of them would be a Super High School Level Groundskeeper) with tall trees and beautiful bushes. It was deeper fall now, so everything was turning colors, the last peek of summer green just barely hanging onto the orange and red leaves. Evening was setting, so the light was beginning to turn cool and blue.

He had picked out a tree to sit under, one of the ones in the raised beds. However, when he sat down, he felt something right next to his foot.

He looked down to see a sleeping Ibuki.

… _something always unexpected, I guess,_ he thought.

He shut his eyes, as if the sight stung him. He’d gone all day without seeing her. Seeing her did _not_ help his anxiety. Were he being honest with himself, he might have acknowledged that she might have something to do with his nerves.

 _You can’t just leave her here,_ he thought to himself before nudging her. Nothing. He nudged her again.

“Ibuki. Ibuki? Come on, you need to wake up.” Nothing.

“Come on, now, you can’t just _sleep_ outside. It’s not safe, for one.” He kicked her with his foot, this time quite hard, but she stayed asleep.

He considered this carefully. What was the one thing that a she would want to hear, that would rouse her from any nap?

He leaned in close, right to her ear, and whispered the one thing that he figured would make her happier than anything else in the world: “Ibuki Mioda, you have to wake up. Johnny Ramone is leaving the band and they need a new lead guitarist.”

She yawned a little, but then rolled over, still asleep. He sat back up, allowing himself a moment of pride for knowing who Johnny Ramone was.

He couldn’t leave her there. But, he couldn’t wake her either, that much was clear.

… he would simply have to pick her up and take her back to her dorm room. She might wake up on the way, which would make his job easier. Even if she didn’t, her roommate would surely be in to receive her.

… her roommate would be there, right? She had one, right? The fear of entering a _girl’s_ dorm room gripped him. Would anyone see? What would they say? They wouldn’t say that they were --

He caught himself sitting there, wide eyed and blushing.

He shook it off. Of _course_ she had a roommate, of _course_ the roommate would be there. More importantly, he couldn’t just leave her outside in the open. There was only one thing to do.

He stood up and considered her sleeping body. He didn’t carry girls very often. What was the best method of getting her up in his arms? Deciding on putting her shoulders in his left arm and her legs in his right, he scooped her up, making sure to gather her skirt in his arms so that she didn’t wind up exposed.

She was lighter than he expected, and warm. He allowed himself a moment to look down at her sleeping form, sweet and peaceful, and, of course, snoring lightly. Something stirred inside him, but he squashed it down and started toward the dormitory.

He was embarrassingly winded by the time he found Ibuki’s room. Luckily, the dormitory had each door labeled with cutely decorated little name plates, so her room wasn’t so impossible to find. Her room had another name on the door -- “Peko Pekoyama” -- so it didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was likely another girl inside. He knocked on the door.

A girl with dark grey braids poked her head out. “Can I help -- oh. _Oh._ ” She instantly sized up Togami and Ibuki. “You found her, huh.”

_Cool demeanor, has an amazing poker face. Wrinkles her nose when surprised.”_

“She was asleep in the quad, I couldn’t wake her.” He gave her a little toss, she had started to slip out of his arms.

“There’s a trick to this,” said what Togami assumed was Pekoyama. She reached up, got Ibuki by the ear, and pinched hard. Ibuki woke up with a rough ‘snerk’ noise, and then let loose with a high-pitched yelp.

Pekoyama began to scold her. “You fell asleep outside again. You’ve got to quit that.”

“I did wha -- ?” She looked around, only barely awake. Slowly, she came to realize that she was Togami’s arms. He could read it on her face.

He saw her cheeks flush, which made his do the same.

Still half asleep, she required an explanation: “You brought me home, huh?”

“I guess so,” he replied, then put her down, gently, and took her shoulders to help her get steady on her feet. 

“Peko, can I have a second with Togami alone? I’ll come in in a second, I promise.” Pekoyama sighed, turned around, and returned inside the room, closing the door behind her.

Ibuki turned toward Togami. “Thank you for returning me to my dorm. I’ve been having trouble sleeping, so … I guess I’ve been falling asleep out and about. I went on a walk today to clear my head, and must’ve not come back.”

“You have trouble sleeping?”

“Just lately.” Her mouth screwed around her face, and, for maybe the first time ever since he met her, she seemed to be searching for words. Like she was suddenly … bashful? “Ibuki’s had a lot of confusing puzzle stuff in her head lately.”

He still wouldn’t admit it, but what she was describing sounded very familiar. The whole thing flustered him, which he did _not_ like one bit. He couldn’t stand the idea of losing any composure at all.

He took a breath in, and managed a, “I hope you get some sleep tonight,” before turning away and leaving down the hall. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. Was he _blushing?_ Oh wow, he was _not_ going to let her see this.

That evening, he opened his journal and stared at the blank page for a long time.

… he eventually had to close it. He couldn’t. That stupid walk, it had done nothing for his anxiety. If nothing else, it had made it worse. 

After having exactly zero luck falling asleep, Byakuya reached for his phone and, against his better judgement, loaded up YouTube again.

He hadn’t liked Ibuki’s music before, but now he was curious again, so he loaded up a song.

It still wasn’t his sort of music, but he found himself more open to it this time. For no reason. He never knew riotous punk music would make him feel so warm and fuzzy inside. He found himself straining to hear the lyrics, so he googled them and followed along.

He fell asleep before he got to what he was looking for. He didn’t even want to admit to himself that he wanted to find a love song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to leave this unfinished, it's actually complete in my Google Drive. If you liked it, thank you! Don't forget to bookmark and subscribe.


	9. Fishy Face

Togami was pretty decent in math.

_Wait, wait, that’s not right. Togami’s excellent in math. The best in his class. How else would he manage all of his money?_

Whichever story you chose to believe, it did happen that Togami was staring down a page of Algebra, trying to work it before the bell rang. Who wanted homework?

And so, X equaled six, probably, unless you were supposed to multiply before you subtracted. What was the rhyme? Please excuse my dear …

Ibuki walked past his desk.

He hated himself for noticing, but he couldn’t help himself, he had to glance up just a bit as she walked past. He … found himself doing that a lot lately. This one time, it was fortuitous, because he saw her slip a note right on the corner of his desk.

_She was so discreet, didn’t even look back at me. She probably has experience in this sort of thing, probably did it a lot in middle school._

He collected himself, and with a surprising amount of control and poise, gathered the note off his desk and read it.

_Ibuki feels like living dangerously tonight! And she hopes Togami will join her. Can you meet Ibuki in the quad when the sun goes down?_

He kept a straight face, sure, but it didn't matter. He _knew_ his face had turned pink. His pulse quickened. He had no idea what she had planned, but he knew he’d be there. He needed it.

 _What has this girl done to you?_ he thought as he put the note in his pocket.

 

He sat in his room, nervous and jumpy, watching out the window to see when the sun would go down. Of course, the sun was still peeking over the horizon, just to make fun of him.

There were no words for how glad he was that he didn't have a room mate tonight.

He had thought about putting on a nicer suit coat, or nicer trousers, or anything, but he didn't want to look too eager. His normal white coat and white pants would be fine for tonight. He straightened his tie. Was it straight enough? Too straight?

It ... he needed to not care so much.

Outside, the sun had finally come down, and the world had turned orange. By the time he took the stairs down to the first floor and exited, it would be dark out. He popped straight up, steeled himself, and left his room.

 

He could see her as he walked across the quad. She was sitting under the tree that they had been under when they drew pictures of each other.

His footsteps must’ve tipped her off. As he approached, a smile grew on her face.

 _You have to keep your cool,_ he told himself as he arrived, and so, he didn't return the smile. Instead, he said, as coolly as he could muster, "Ibuki, what did you want to meet me for?"

"I’m pretty sure I found a cool thing!" she said. "And ... and I wanted to share." She looked at her feet for a moment before she popped up and took Togami's hand. "So follow me. Please?"

She didn’t pull. He would have expected her to tug, but instead, she just held his hand. He scowled slightly -- it was part of the act now, wouldn't she expect it? -- but when she turned and skipped off, he found himself following.

She led him out of the quad, back around one of the dorms that he wasn't familiar with, and down through an area of campus he hadn't yet seen. The buildings gave way to a small green passage, sloping down slightly. It dipped to the left, and opened up to a garden.

"I found this place exploring," she said, stopping suddenly to look around. "I’m pretty sure older students have classes here." She motioned to Togami. "Come on, I’ll show you the best thing."

She turned around. Her hair whipped behind her, thrown in the air before it chased behind her. ( _The hair again,_ he thought. _I … I like it._ He decided against giving it more thought than that for the moment..)

Instead, he followed her through the garden, along the cobblestone pathways and through the raised beds to the end of the garden, covered over with trees.

It was ... private.

"Look, it's the best!" Ibuki motioned beside her and stepped to the side, revealing a koi pond. "There's probably a super high school level water gardener or something around." She hopped to the edge of the pond and took a big leap over, then knelt at the other edge. "Come sit."

He felt tension rise in him, tingle up through his chest. _Hush, you want this,_ he said to himself.

"I'm not as ... nimble as you," he said. "I'll just walk around the pond, thanks." He did so, and sat down next to her, wrestling the smile off his face.

"See? It's pretty." Ibuki pointed down. "The fish swim around in circles and zigzags.” She watched them, for a moment, tracing the patterns of random fish in the air as they swam. This was her quiet, contemplative side -- this was the best she had, anyway. Togami had to wonder how many people actually got to see her like this.

She sighed. “I could just look at them forever."

Not knowing how to respond, he bent over and looked into the pond. The fish were wonderful, sure, brilliant orange and white little lines that darted around the ink black pond.

He started to watch the ripples above the fish -- made ever so gently by the occasional fish surfacing. Were they looking for food? Air? Ibuki pointed to one and very quietly said, "Fishy face!" He looked up as she pulled her mouth into a tight loop and trying to imitate the fish.

Shyly, he looked back to the water. That's when he noticed -- the night was so dark and the water was so reflective that he could see himself and Ibuki in the water. It probably helped that they were both wearing white. It was a bit like the preview he’d gotten in chalk, but better.

... He liked the way they looked together. He liked the way _she_ looked. It was such a nice picture.

She looked down, and he could tell she was also looking at their reflection. She leaned in closer, and, after a moment of observation, made a fish face at herself.

He started to stifle a smile. She could tell, though, and he _knew_ she could tell. _This is silly,_ he thought to himself, which of course didn't make the smile stifle any easier.

So instead, he made a fish face back at her, in the water.

She laughed, a big squealing laugh that rang through the night and out against the brick walls of the various buildings at Hope's Peak. Ibuki rolled backwards, flat on her back.

"What?"

"Togami doesn't seem like the fishy face type!” She poked his side. “Ibuki likes this side of him."

Maybe he could have replied, but he really didn’t know what to say. Instead, he made another fish face, this time crossing his eyes. She guffawed again.

So now that he had her, he turned around and leaned toward her, replying with another fish face. He couldn’t help but feed off her delight.

It was just ... that smile, he was making her smile, and he was smiling too. The world was getting warm and fuzzy and bright, and altogether new and he was wrapped up in it. This was it, there were no other thoughts, just … this energy, this perfect newness that he’d found in her.

He leaned in to her face, and fish faced her again.

She laughed, another big hearty wonderful laugh. He was going to get addicted, he had to watch himself. No, too late, he was already addicted, and he’d fishface himself until his whole face hurt if it meant he could get more out of her.

Then, she sat up just a bit to touch her nose to his.

The touch tingled, sending a buzz all through his body. He knew what was coming next, and he wanted it more than anything. He felt himself move his lips ever so slightly into position --

 

\-- wait. He shot straight up, eyes wide. The entire world came screeching to a halt, and suddenly he was back at Hope's Peak, in the dark, next to fish.

Ibuki's face twisted around into total confusion. "It's not you," he stuttered quickly. He wanted that look to go away, but he ... he couldn't. "It's not you, I promise, it's just -- "

"If it's not me, then, what?"

"It's ... it's. It's." He couldn't. He was trying, but he couldn't. What should he say? What was it that he said in this sort of situation when he was being -- ?

"I need some time," he said, and stood up.

"But ... what's going on?"

He brushed himself off. "I just ... I need some time to think," he said. He turned away -- he couldn't see the look on her face any longer, and hurried off, away from Ibuki and into the night.

 

That night, he sat on his dorm bed, heartbroken, head in his hands.

The journal didn’t even cross his mind.

When he had been admitted into Hope's Peak, Headmaster Kirigiri had taken him aside and explained to him that this would happen someday, that he might have to come forward about his talent.

And he had replied that no, he was sure that no one would ever find him out, for he was the world's greatest imposter.

And now, here he was, _close to someone_ , and very much in danger of being revealed.

He liked Ibuki. That was an understatement, he had a crush on her. _That_ was a _huge_ understatement, he was completely head over heels for her. His heart did backflips any time he got any attention from her. He'd never been so happy.

But he couldn't go on with her while he was still in disguise. It wasn't fair.

However, to reveal himself ... ? He'd been someone else as long as he could remember.

... he thought that maybe she liked him too. That compliment in gym class? The anxiety she admitted to having when he found her sleeping in the quad? Come on, she’d _invited him out late at night to a private garden._ The way she was laughing tonight was incredible, there was nothing else on the planet like it. And he caused it! That was more amazing than any disguise he'd ever crafted! Why wasn’t _that_ his talent?!

He ... he wanted that feeling again. He sighed, and looked straight ahead at the other empty bed and the wall. Was it worth revealing himself?

He didn’t know how it would work. Headmaster Kirigiri had pointed out that revealing himself didn’t actually make himself less talented. Maybe Ibuki would keep his secret too?

Hmm. Maybe he could be the world’s greatest impostor _and_ be with Ibuki. That would be pretty okay.

He’d figure out more later. For now, he got himself ready for bed. (It was amazing to get out of that suit every night, it was hot and stuffy. The real Togami probably needed to get into polo shirts.) As he lay in bed, he tried not to be scared about telling Ibuki his secret. Instead, he closed his eyes and transported himself back to the fish pond, back next to her. This time, in his own mind, he wasn't such an idiot about fish faces.


	10. A Me

If anyone had ever wondered what the cold shoulder was like, Togami found out the next morning. Before, they had been stealing quick glances at each other during classes, whenever the teacher spoke too long and they felt they could chance it. Now, Ibuki wouldn't even look at him. She wouldn't even look in his direction when they walked down the hall.

_All right,_ he thought to himself, _she's mad. I totally deserve that._

So he waited again until math class -- for the significance of it all, of course -- and this time, he was the one who got up during work time. He pretended to sharpen his pencil, and, as he walked back to his seat, dropped a note on Ibuki's desk.

It said, very simply, _I've got to tell you something. Can we try again? Same place, same time?_

He sat at his seat, watching her intently when he should have been using his pretend-sharpened pencil to figure out more things that X equaled. She considered the note for a moment, then looked over her shoulder at him, coldly. It was foreign to him. _She's always so cheerful._

His stomach seized.

Ibuki's expression didn't change much at all, but she nodded in the affirmative. He kept his face blank, but on the inside, he felt a sharp rise: _he was going to do it._

 

It had been nerve racking, waiting for the sun to set, but Togami felt determined, and that determination energized him.

So when the light left Hope's Peak's grounds, he set off purposely to the fish pond.

Ibuki had beaten him there, and she stood, square to the pond, arms crossed. Actually, with her horns and her hair flowing around her shoulders, she looked intimidating.

"Try running again," she said, slowly and deliberately, "and I’m pushing you into the pond."

He put his hands out in front of him. "Okay, so. You've got every right to be mad at me."

"These are true facts that I already know. Seriously, I mean it too, I’ll ruin that expensive white suit."

"Ibuki, for God's sake, I made it myself."

Her demeanor changed instantaneously; she dropped her arms, and her face screwed up in confusion. "You _made_ a suit? That's super high school level impressive. But why wouldn't you just buy one with all your Scrooge McDuck style piles of money?"

Togami closed his eyes. It was time.

"You deserve to know. If we're going to do _this,_ " he said, gesturing to the two of them, "you ... look, can you keep a secret?"

"What is it?"

"I'm not Byakuya Togami."

She looked to the side, and then back to ... whoever it was that she was looking at. "I’m confused."

"My real talent is that I'm an imposter."

"You ... what? What sort of talent?"

"I impersonate people as my talent. I picked Togami to start the school year, because he was easy. All I had to do was grow my hair out." He scratched the back of his head. He'd never told anyone his process before. Now that he was into it, he wasn't sure he could stop. "Actually, I kind of hate having my hair this long. I usually shave it, it makes it easier to put under wigs."

Ibuki stood there, mouth agape, eyebrow raised. It was different -- she wasn't cheerful, wasn't bouncing, wasn't talking in riddles. All her defences were down, and she was processing.

He kept on. It felt good!

"Besides, I didn't have to learn to do anything that outlandish. I didn't have to learn to cook, or anything medical, or ... " He smiled. "You can imagine I'm not an athlete."

He grinned. The world felt so _open_ to him now that he'd confessed everything. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been _him._

But Ibuki wasn't grinning. Her face was still frozen in confusion.

"That's ... that's it. That's me."

" _Huh._ "

Her non-response was frightening. Would she get angry? Would she run? He would _totally_ deserve it if she ran, but he hoped she wouldn’t.

Finally, she stepped around the fish pond to him. "So, you imitate people?"

"Yeah."

"Do me."

"I'm sorry?"

"Imitate me. I want to see."

He closed his eyes a moment to get into character, then, in his best Ibuki-pitched voice, began, "Hello! I'm super high school level excited to meet you!" He bounced a little, eyes wide. "There's no one -- " he took the opportunity to swing his arm wide and point to his chest -- "who's leveled up more on guitar than me! My attack and defense aren't so bad either!"

A smile broke on Ibuki's face. It grew, and took her eyes as she started to clap slowly. “That was the most perfectest best thing I’ve ever heard! _That’s_ your talent? That’s like the _best_ talent!”

Togami was taken aback -- he wasn’t sure what response he thought he would get, but this wasn’t one he anticipated. “Thanks,” he said blankly.

“No, for seriouses! Why would you keep that a secret? You should have tee shirts printed! You should tell -- “

“No!” His hands shot out in front of him. “We can’t! That’s rule number one of being a good imposter.”

“Wouldn’t rule number one be, ‘imposterate someone’?”

“I … okay, look. The whole point of impersonating someone is that they don’t know that you’re the fake. If you tell everyone, then everyone will _know._ ”

“Won’t everyone figure it out anyway? I mean, I guess the real Togami’s still out there.” Her eyes widened. “Unless you’re also a super high school level murderer?”

“What? No!” He blinked. This was all going so fast. “Togami -- the _real_ one, I mean, he’s off doing some sort of exchange student program right now. He’ll be back. I’m … I’m holding out for as long as possible. I’m not totally sure what the exit plan will be. Maybe I’ll tell everyone, maybe I’ll just adopt a new persona, I … “ He shook his head. “I don’t know. But I just need some time.”

“So what do I call you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“If you’re not a Togami, then you’re a blank. What’s the blank?”

“Oh, no.” He waved his hand. “No, keep calling me Togami.”

“But you’ve got another name, I want to know what it is.”

“Look, if I’m going to be keep being Togami, I’ve got to be him 100% of the time. In class, after school, when we’re together -- “

A half smile grew on on Ibuki’s face. Togami realized that _when we’re together_ implied a … well, a _togetherness_. His face grew pink and hot, but he kept on. “It’s like playing a role, I’ve got to stay in character to keep things convincing. Anyway, I don’t have anything of my own. Not my name, not even my own gender -- “

“Oh, you’re a boy.”

“... how would you know?”

Her smile widened. “Or at least, I can see that you have boy parts.”

What in the world was she talking about? It hit him a second later. He jumped, then covered his crotch before realizing that there was nothing _to_ cover, since he didn’t have … anyway, he looked back up, his gaze meeting hers.

_She,_ on the other hand, was covering her mouth, trying and failing to keep giggles from escaping. “Not really,” she said. “But now I know for sure that you’ve got boy parts.”

He straightened up. It was a spectacular trick.

“Okay, so. You don’t have a name and you don’t have an anything, but … “ She put her hands back behind her back, looked up and to the side, and sweetly twisted back and forth while batting her eyelashes. “Do you have a me?”

His eyes widened. “You get right to the point, don’t you.”

She looked at him, expectantly. He caught himself wiggling his mouth furiously to suppress a smile. _No, wait, that’s what Togami would do._ For just once in his life, he was going to allow himself the luxury of being himself.

“Only if you have a me,” he said.

She grabbed him by the shoulders. “See, and now you can’t escape this time,” she said, right before she planted a big wet kiss on his cheek.

Now he was shocked, bright red, and certainly all the way caught off guard, because that sort of thing had never happened before.

_Kiss her, you idiot._

He bent down to do just that, but she took his hand and stepped away. “What … ?”

“Over there,” she said, pointing to the other side of the fish pond, where they sat before.

… where the trees covered thickly and the only ones who would see them were fish. Wow. Perfect.

She led him over to the other side of the pond, she jumped it while he side stepped it once again.

When he sat down with her, and leaned toward her, the world was once again fuzzy and bright, just as it had been before, but this time, he leaned in close, tilted his nose past hers, and kissed her lips.

He learned a lot of things that night. For example, staying out late into the night wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Also, he did _not_ know that a girl’s mouth could feel that good. He didn’t know he could hold his breath quite that long. Touching a girl’s sides was new to him, and that wasn’t so bad either. He also learned that girls could be quite touchey. He’d never even given much thought to having his sides grabbed or his chest rubbed, but now he was thinking about it, and he’d probably be thinking about it for a while. He’d hated his long hair right up until he felt her fingers wiggle through it. Finally, he would have thought that being grabbed by the necktie to be pulled in closer would have hurt, but instead he found out it was exhilarating. 

Ibuki had also made the joke again about him being a boy, but he couldn’t really help it.

He had no idea what to write in his log that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Bookmark it if you'd like to see more (there's plenty left!)


	11. Muchas Smoochas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to bookmark this.

The next day at school _sure was different._

He had practiced keeping a stern detachment from everyone for _how long?_ It should be second nature by now. No, it should be _first_ nature, it should be _his_ nature, for he was the best imposter. Right?

Last night had, however, left him bouncy. _Too_ bouncy. Togami wouldn’t bounce down the halls of Hope’s Peak, it was unseemly. He didn’t _smile._ He didn’t have to restrain a stupid, crooked grin when he saw Ibuki cross past him in the hall on the way to Physics.

… he did chance a small grin at her, though. He thought he’d fly through the roof when she turned the slightest shade of pink and smiled back.

Neither one of them had any idea about how to tell anyone, or _if_ they should tell anyone. He hadn’t shared it with Ibuki, but he had no idea how the real Togami would handle having a girlfriend. He knew he could back pedal somehow. There were honestly lots of ways to mesh their stories together. He could totally make something up about how it was only logical that someone from the Togami Corporation be with someone so acquainted with … international dealings. Probably. Or handling a large … brand … thing. He’d work on it.

Also, he had no idea how he, personally would handle having a girlfriend. … it was terrifying, to be honest. He, personally, had never really had anything personal with anyone. This was new territory. It easier for him to frame anything in the paradigm of “what would Togami do,” though, and therefore tried not to think about it much past that.

Anyway, It was fun to have a secret. A new secret, not his usual secret. He had the most fun in Algebra class, where he did not even _begin_ to hear anything about numbers or variables. Instead, his mind wandered, and he found himself concentrating more on the back of Ibuki’s head. He couldn’t help it. He’d learned to find horns cute over the last few weeks.

At lunch time, as Togami entered, Ibuki slipped behind him and whispered, “Hey, sit behind me at the next table. I think this’ll be funny.” She left as quickly as she came. 

Togami did as she said. A quick look over his shoulder let him know that she was sitting with Pigtails and Redhead.

He turned back to his lunch, but his ears perked up when he heard the obnoxious girl start, “Ibuki, you’ve been _way_ too happy all day.”

“What? It’s Wednesday. That’s the best day of the week to be happy.” She began to sing, “Feelin’ _gooooooooood_ on a Wednesday -- “

“Wouldn’t Friday be a better happy day?” That poor red headed girl always spoke so quietly. She was probably whipped by Pigtails.

“Nope. Wednesday. It starts with W, which rhymes with H.”

“ _Don’t_ try to goofball your way out of this,” hissed Pigtails. “You’re all bouncy and giggly.”

“That’s called being Ibuki.”

“ _More than usual!_ ” She hit the lunchroom table. (Of course, since she was so tiny, there wasn’t even enough force to rattle a plate.) “I’ve seen this before. There’s a boy.”

Togami bit his lips together. Well? There was.

_Aww, I’m someone’s boy --_

“Maybe there is a boy, maybe there’s not. Maybe there’s a girl. Maybe there’s just an Ibuki. It’s like a Choose Your Own Bounciness adventure.”

Togami considered this briefly -- was there a reason she wasn’t telling the truth? It was completely possible that she was embarrassed, he guessed, but it didn’t sound like it. Maybe she was just enjoying having a secret as much as he was.

He felt a kick in his chair, from directly behind. It must’ve been Ibuki. That’s when it hit him -- she was toying with the other girls. _Good lord, she’s enjoying this._

If he made any sort of suspicious move, he’d give her away. He took a bite of sandwich.

“No, come on, it’s time to start guessing. Who have you been spending a ton of time with?”

Togami stopped chewing. Welp, it’d been a fun ride, but Pigtails would be guessing what was up. Probably on the first guess.

“Saijioni, she spends most of her time with us,” said Redhead.

“Well she’s not dating _me!_ ”

“I sure could,” said Ibuki. Togami knew her well enough to know that she was probably leaning over the table, batting her eyelashes right now.

“You sure _couldn’t._ There’s the dance committee, but I doubt it’s any of them … “

“What about that Togami guy?”

He froze. So Redhead got it.

… did she see him sitting behind Ibuki? How weird was this about to get? He took another bite of his sandwich, it was the only thing he could think of to do to act casual.

He wondered how Ibuki was holding it together. Of course, if he turned around, that would be bad.

“Don’t be stupid,” said Pigtails. “They’re doing the project together, if they start getting all muchas smoochas on everything, what do they do? They can’t write up all their nastiness and turn it into a teacher, that’s gross.”

“Maybe that’s Ibuki’s thing. Maybe she’s keeping a _muchas smoochas_ journal.” Her voice dropped, and darkly and slyly, she added, “ _Maybe she wants Mrs. Jenkins to know._ ”

Pigtails let out with a giant, “ _BLUH!_ ” as Ibuki cackled. He cracked a smile himself, certainly without turning around.

Later, as he sat in class listening to another lecture (today was not his day to pay attention apparently), something dawned on him -- he had been this close to being found out. He was lucky that Ibuki liked playing tricks so much.

_That was awfully smart of her. I didn’t know she was so smart -- holy smokes, self, get ahold of yourself._

Still, he’d come that much closer to being uncovered. No one had ever known any of his private thoughts before. He liked it that way.

He decided it was best to not think about it now.

That night in his journal, he wrote a total lie about playing a card game with Ibuki, Redhead and Pigtails at lunch. Lies were comfortable.


	12. A Tell

They had agreed to meet back at the fish pond the next night. “Ibuki likes the night,” she had said. “It’s like the scenery in a movie or something.”

Togami was, of course, developing a taste for the night himself.

Actually, aside from the company, he was starting to like these nighttime chats. He could not remember the last time he got to sit around and be him, not an imitation. It was wholly possible it had never happened. _I have to be careful,_ he thought to himself. _I could get addicted to this._

Tonight, Ibuki had actually talked him into taking his shoes off, so that they could stick their toes in the pond. It took a lot. “Look, my feet are a little gross,” he said.

“They’re just feet. They sit underwater. Look, I’ll do mine first,” she said, and undid a blue shoelace. Her toenails were painted black too, of course.

This is how he wound up with his pant legs carefully rolled up to his knees, and his feet in pond water, next to Ibuki who was doing the same.

“Just try not to splash too much,” he said, and then slipping into a more Togamiesque tone, “A pond water stain on my suit would be _unseemly._ ”

Ibuki giggled, and Togami lit up inside. Using his talent to impress girls wasn’t so bad.

“Wearing a suit all the time is goofy anyway.”

“I don’t ask questions, I just copy.”

“He really does do that all the time, too,” she went on. “I noticed that when I googled him.” She stirred her feet in the pond just a little, staring at the ripples they made. Finally, she said, “I’m glad you’re not him.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked up at him. “Don’t get me wrong, I 100% believed that you were Togami. It’s just that stuff I saw when I googled didn’t match up with you.” She shrugged. “I figured it was just the media misrepresenting you or some junk.”

“Okay, now I _have_ to know what I got wrong.”

“No, not wrong, it’s just … okay, like when you played violin with me. Which was wonderful, by the way, totes a dream come true. But, see, I know that tune you played. It’s a beginner’s song, I remember playing it when I was itty bitty.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Good catch,” was all he knew to say. He probably should have expected as such from a musical genius.

“Actually, I think it was pretty rad that you learned the violin. Everyone should play an instrument.”

He felt warmed inside -- here was the best musician on the planet, and she had no airs at all about being so talented. She just wanted other people to play too. Here he’d been so shy about playing for her … he felt stupid about how he’d behaved earlier. He should have just played. He should have played a _lot_.

Still, there were more important things to ask about. “Okay, but for real, what else did you notice?”

“Nothing.”

That was an awfully quick nothing. He knew what was coming, and he intended to enjoy it.

“Nothing at all?”

“Um, no.”

“You didn’t notice at all that the real Togami is about the width of a piece of paper?”

Ibuki let out a small, “ _Well …_ ” He smiled, he loved messing with people like this.

“Ibuki, I’m fat. I don’t really care, you can say it. You won’t hurt me. Look, every imposter has a tell, right? That’s mine. That’s all.”

She grinned, probably relieved that Togami had said what she was thinking. Instead of replying, she scooted closer to him, close enough to where he could feel her body warmth. “There’s another one, though.”

“Hmm?”

“Everything I read about the real Togami … everyone said that he was kind of a jerk. No, everyone said he was a REAL jerk. But you’re not.”

“What? I thought I had ‘condescending jerk’ down.”

“Sort of … but it’s just an act. Do you remember on the first day of school when you helped that kid?”

“... a little.”

“No, there were other boys who were picking on this one short guy. You helped him up and scared the bullies away. The _real_ Togami would have just walked past or kicked him or something stupid. But you didn’t, because you’re a cool person, not a Togami.”

He stared, blankly, torn between being upset that he’d given himself away by being kind understanding that he’d just been given a huge compliment.

“Thanks,” he said, not sure what else to say.

She flopped on his side, hard enough to make a small ‘floomph’, and wrapped her arms around him. Oh, that was nice.

You know what else was nice? He hugged her back, that was very nice. He put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in. Maybe she wouldn’t notice that his pulse had quickened.

After a moment of nuzzling into him, she craned her neck up and kissed him..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to book mark!


	13. Show Me Your Talent

Togami shifted in his seat, nervously.

He really shouldn’t have been nervous. A coffee shop had to have been the least stressful place on the planet. Right? He was currently sitting in a fluffy chair with a cup of green tea (he had decided against anything with caffeine in it, because of the aforementioned nerves) while nondescript jazz played over the shop’s speakers.

And Ibuki sat across from him, and that was why he was nervous.

She had asked for a demonstration of his talent. He’d done a few impressions, but she wanted to know how he’d gotten so good at it. “You have to observe people,” he said. “You have to be able to do it quickly and closely.”

So she’d asked for a demonstration of _that,_ and he said they’d have to go to a public place where there were strangers, which was what led them to this coffee shop on the weekend.

He had no idea if it was a date or not. You don’t just _ask_ if something’s a date, do you? People just … know that kind of stuff. But he didn’t know. If it _was_ a date, it was his first. Ever.

_It’s probably her first too,_ he told himself. _Most middle schoolers don’t date that much._

_… are you kidding yourself? She’s an international superstar, she’s probably had a date. Maybe. Oh God, is this a date?_

He adjusted his tie. Then he adjusted it a second time, because he was pretty sure it was straight before and he had just made it worse. _Aren’t dates supposed to be fun? … not that this is a date._

Ibuki took a sip of whatever sugary milkshake concoction she had ordered, and smiled at him. It made his brain go fuzzy.

“So, are you going to show me?”

“Show you what?”

“ _Your talent._ ”

“Oh! Right.”

“Look, someone’s about to come in. Do them.”

He turned toward the door as a woman entered the shop. _Middle aged, probably --_

Wait, he was supposed to be doing this out loud. He dropped his voice and leaned toward Ibuki. “Middle age, and from the way that she dresses, she thinks she’s pretty important. She carries herself very high, head tipped up, shoulders back.”

The woman walked past, and up to the counter to order. He listened for a moment. “Her voice is high, but it’s not pinched. You’d keep the back of her throat open when you imitate her voice. She tends to use as few words as possible -- you can hear, she just ordered using phrases instead of sentences. Her accent says she’s from around here. Look, she just took her cup with her left hand, so I’d probably use it to gesture when I imitate her.”

He stopped talking quickly as she walked past. As she left the shop, he held his head up like she did, crown parallel to the floor, and in his best imitation of her voice, said, “See what I mean?”

As a smile grew on Ibuki’s face, he took a drink of tea.

“That’s amazeballs! Do you do that all the time?”

“... I kind of can’t turn it off.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just notice stuff like that constantly.”

“You should totally be a writer or something! Or maybe you could solve murders!”

“Oh please, a Super High School Level murder mystery solver? I don’t think that would work.”

“Imposter’s pretty good, though.” She took a drink of her milkshake, then shuffled her feet. “It’s fun being out like this.”

He hoped his face wasn’t too red. “Yeah,” was all he got out before taking another drink of tea.

“So what else do you do?”

“What … else?”

“Yeah.”

“I … I impersonate. That’s me.” He didn’t get the question. It was starting to worry him.

“No, but when you don’t impersonate people.”

“I’m impersonating people all the time.”

“Even when you’re alone?”

“Of course. That’s how it works. The best imposters never let their guard down, they’re always in character.”

“Sure, but … “ She paused, looking down into her cup. “I don’t do music all the time. Remember? I run, too. And I paint stripes on all my stuff. And … “ She shook her milkshake absentmindedly. “Hey, listen. I want to know you. And, like, the real you.”

“The real … what would that be? What do you want to know?”

“The real parts, like what you think or what you do and your … you know, your you parts.” Her nose wrinkled. “I think we should try this again.” She sat forward, interest across her face. “What’s your favorite color?”

“You mean all those questions we did in the library? I told you, it’s green.”

“No, _Togami’s_ favorite is green. What’s yours?”

He stared, wide eyed. “I … never thought about it.”

“What do you do for fun?”

He stared again. “I … impersonate?”

“No, but other than that.”

His mouth hung open. “Ibuki, I don’t think you get it. I’m always impersonating. There is no _me._ It’s just whoever I am.”

She tipped her head. “No, there’s a you, a real you. There has to be, that’s how people work. The real you is the one that’s sweet and kind and helps out kids who’ve fallen down in the hallway and sticks his toes in pond water and is _interested in me?_ ” Her voice sang those last three words, coyly, like she knew the answer but wanted to hear it.

He felt himself turn red, very red.

“Maybe I could learn more about you on Friday?”

“Friday?” Was she asking to see him again? Wow, he’d gotten a second date? He wasn’t totally sure he was on a first date, though, but if he _was,_ it was good to know that he was doing well enough to go on a second, which then might be a first if this wasn’t a first. Which it could be. Dating was hard. Not that he was dating.

“You know. ‘Cause of the dance.”

“The what again?”

Her eyes narrowed. “The fall dance me and my friends were working on.”

“Oh. … _OH._ You want us to go to the dance together!”

“Yes!” She was exasperated now.

“Oh, I don’t think I … “ Fear set in. How was he going to explain this? “I don’t think I could do that.”

“Why not?”

“How in the world am I going to justify a super rich heir at a high school dance?” he blurted. It was possibly the world’s worst cover story he’d ever come up with.

Her head cocked and her eyebrows lowered. “Really? Maybe you’d be _with your girlfriend._ ”

His voice was tiny. “I have a girlfriend?” he choked out.

He realized his mistake instantly.

When her jaw dropped, he tried to backpedal. “I mean -- I didn’t know that’s what you were! And the dance, I just don’t know -- “

She stood up. “You just don’t know a lot of things, do you? I’m not just some manic pixie dream girl. I like it when a guy pays attention.” She sighed. Hard. “I’m trying to get to know you. I don’t _believe_ that there’s nothing up there,” she said, poking him in the forehead. “I’m just trying to be let in!”

She stood up, dramatically sucked some milkshake out of her straw, spun on her heel, and walked out the door of the cafe.

Togami was left staring, his stunned state only broken when he heard the barista say, “Dude? That was _painful._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! Don't forget to bookmark this work!


	14. Screwed Up

So yeah, Togami was pretty sure he had screwed up.

If he didn’t know what the cold shoulder was before? He knew now. It was being pointedly ignored; it was being walked past in the hallway with her nose held up; it was not having anyone to steal brief glances with in Algebra.

He never knew that he’d miss eye contact.

He kept himself busy with his ruse, of course, of walking with his head up and keeping his “I am better than you in all ways” sort of gaze, but inside, he was lonely and hurting. _Good Lord, how does the real Togami do this?_

After school, he thought he’d catch up to her -- maybe talk to her, maybe not, but maybe he could … see her? He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to accomplish.

As he turned the corner to the hallway where he thought she might be, he stopped. There she was, but she was talking to another boy -- someone in a lime green jumpsuit with long, greasy pink hair. _Slightly hunched, smells like .. motor oil? He has a roughness to his voice. He’s leaning on that locker to look bigger than her, classic male posturing. Surely she wouldn’t,_ he thought.

But he heard the boy say, “This Friday? Sure, I don’t have a date.”

_Of course you don’t have a date, you look filthy._ Togami couldn’t keep himself from thinking, well, _unkind_ things.

Ibuki bounced. Her horns wiggled, a little. He missed horn wiggles. “Then I’ll see you at the dance, right?”

_Are you KIDDING!?_

“Of course!”

Sure enough, Ibuki hopped over and took the boy’s arm. As they walked off, Ibuki turned around and looked at Togami for the first time that day.

His heart swelled, because hope springs eternal, but everything came crashing in when Ibuki stuck her tongue out at him and whipped around.

He was _so good_ at controlling his face, which made it hurt just a little more when he felt it fall.

 

Later, back in his dorm, he sat on his bed. He had taken his coat off for the day and laid it next to him. Briefly, he wished his roommate actually had moved in -- at least he’d have someone to talk to, even if he’d have to do it in his Togami impression.

… no, maybe he would rather be alone.

He flopped back on the bed and sighed. _So, good job, self. You had something good and you totally lost it._

All right, then. He’d been alone up until now, so it shouldn’t be too hard to go back to that. No girl, no secret, nothing to reveal, no problem. Right? Right?

The silence of the room fell around him. He’d never been quite so aware of it.

He sat back up. Okay, so, he didn’t want to go back to being alone. He liked Ibuki too much. There, he said it. If nothing else, he’d at least like her to be less mad. If he could make her happy, that would be bonus points.

And, he knew it wasn’t nice, but that greasy pink-haired boy seemed awful. The idea of him being around her, much less _touching --_

A shudder ran over him. He couldn’t finish.

He sat up. The first thing he could probably fix was going to the dance, even though it scared him. If he showed up, and if he was with Ibuki, all of his feelings would be so … public. That was his real panic, that was what set him off in the coffee shop: people would know something about _him._ That had never happened before. He’d spent his life keeping every single thing covered up, unexposed. His feelings for Ibuki were a particularly tender spot. If he walked into the dance, boom, everyone would know.

That was terrifying.

… but, the other alternative was her angry and him lying on the bed, alone, with nothing but the quiet for company. 

There it was. If either of them were going to be happy, he was going to have to risk exposing himself. It was gut wrenching. His adrenaline kicked in. Still, he’d made his choice, being scared wasn’t a good excuse. He reached for his phone and started googling what sort of suit someone might wear to a school dance.


	15. The Dance

… dark charcoal. He’d gone with a dark charcoal suit. The Internet had said to wear something dark, but black felt too formal, so he decided that dark charcoal felt just about right.

Plus, it was what the thrift shop had. There was no way he was going to be able to sew an entire new suit before the dance.

He’d spent forever in his dorm trying to get his tie straight and fussing with his hair (it was way too long, the real Byakuya needed to learn how nice buzz cuts felt) and adjusting his glasses until he realized that he was only fussing with his appearance because he was nervous. No more stalling, he looked as good as he was going to look.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he descended the stairs to Hope’s Peak’s gymnasium, where the dance was held. His own heart even drown out the muffled music coming from inside. Anxiety rattled around in his head, making a million thoughts: _are people going to notice me? … would they notice me a lot? What would Togami do at a dance? He’s not exactly a people person. If people see Togami smiling or laughing or even_ dancing _then --_

_\-- nope! Not important. Only thing that’s important is her._

Her. Just being able to talk about a “her” to himself felt nice. _Good Lord, self, you’ve really got it bad, don’t you._

Butterflies didn’t begin to describe it, he had a whole monarch migration going on inside as he entered the gym.

He couldn’t help but adopt Togami’s scowl, it had become second nature at this point. Keeping his facial expression, he scanned the gym. Everyone was mostly hanging around in small groups, being social. Some pairs were dancing in the middle of the gym. But he couldn’t find Ibuki … ?

… Oh. There she was, in the corner, sitting on the bleachers, head in her hands, staring. Alone.

It wasn’t fair, she looked too nice to be alone. She had on a black lace dress, and she’d managed to get her metric ton of hair into a spiky updo behind her horns. It looked like she had worked too hard to be so disappointed.

His face fell. What had happened? If she’d been dancing with the pink haired greaseball, at least she would have been having a good time. He was angry with the greaseball for a moment, before concern overtook him.

He wanted to run over to the other side of the gym, but he still had an impersonation to keep up, so he stuck his nose and got a snotty look on his face as he glided across the floor.

As he approached, though, his imitation fell. It didn't even occur to him that someone might see. Instead, he stood right in front of Ibuki and waved weakly. "Hey."

She looked up without moving her head. "Hey." It was flat and dull and not at all her.

"Is ... is everything going okay?"

"No." She sighed. "It's okay, you might as well sit with me."

He felt his heart rate increase, but he sat down with her anyway. He was desperate to not let his nerves get to him. After fidgeting for a bit, he planted his hands at his side on the bleachers.

"Where's the pink haired guy?" It was completely not what he meant to say, but it fell out.

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't know he was all googly for Sonia."

"Who?"

"The princess girl." She pointed across the gym to the punch bowl. A tall blonde girl was happily chatting with the pink haired boy while another boy, dark haired and white skinned, stood behind shooting the pink haired boy death glares.

"She's so super awesomely sweet, you can't even be mad at her." Her eyes narrowed. "But _he's_ a super high school level jerkwad."

"He really is," he answered, but didn't receive a reply. Ibuki instead sighed heavily and went back to staring straight forward.

There was a pause between them. This wasn't going that well.

Finally, he said, "Orange."

"I'm sorry?"

"I thought about it, and I think my favorite color is orange. It's bright. That's cool, right?" She turned to look at him, eyebrow raised, but she certainly didn't protest, so he went on. "I mean, I might change it later, but I think that’s right. And I think my favorite thing to do is sewing."

She made a face. "You sew?"

"How do you think I get all my costumes? I made that white suit, remember? I’m pretty good. But, uh, this one came from Goodwill." _Oh smooth, you idiot, that's really going to impress her,_ he thought to himself, but he knew he had to go on. "But I made the shirt!” He pointed to it. “And I've made other stuff too. I could, um, show you sometime."

Her eyebrow raised.

"You know, if you were cool with it."

She looked away for a moment to process, and finally said, "I like it when you talk to me."

"Oh. Well -- "

"No, I mean, when _you_ talk to me. You and not the real Togami." Her face was softening. "The real Togami would have said something like," and she stuck her nose up and adopted a big silly voice, "'You will acknowledge my sewing superiority for the glory of the Togami corporation!'"

He laughed. "My bloodline is the best at using a sewing machine!"

"We made our fortune in Kenmore machines! A Togami would use no less!"

They both started to giggle. _They both started to giggle._ Togami was starting to feel better.

"I mean ... I'm trying to be me. There's not much me to be, but I'm learning."

"That sounded suspiciously like something I'd say."

"I didn't say I'd be great at it." He sighed. “You’ll have to be patient, but … I mean, if you’re willing … “

She looked away, shuffled her feet, then looked back. "Is there anything else you like? Like, the real you and not Togami?"

"Well, yeah, _duh._ " He took a deep breath. He was nervous, but how do you pass this sort of opportunity up? He stood up and offered his hand. "Do you care to dance?"

She smiled, big and wide. He forgot how much he missed that smile. When she placed her hand with his, it caused a spark, a jolt of nerves from within, then a wonderful shot of energy to the system. It was just a touch, but that was it, right there -- everything was patched over. It wasn’t perfect, but it could heal, it could grow, and it was going to be okay.

"I'd totes dance with you," she giggled.

"I'm not taking you away from your date, am I?"

"You totally are, and it's totally cool."

He led her out to the dance floor, doing his best impersonation of a gentleman. Wait, that wasn’t right. _He was being a gentleman._ As she turned around, he put a hand around her waist. 

"Hey," she said, "you're not so bad at this."

He shrugged. "I did an impersonation of a dancer once."

“Really?”

“... of course not, there’s no way anyone could believe that.”

She giggled, thankfully, but her next statement was more thoughtful. "You've still got to be Togami to everyone else, right? What'll you tell them about us?"

"I don't really care. I'll think of something, I usually do." He wasn't concentrating that hard on cover stories at the moment.

"What do we write about in our project?"

"I'll figure that out later too."

She leaned in, touching her forehead to his chest. Both horns surrounded him in a hug. It was the sort of hug you could really only get from Ibuki, and it was his, all to himself. He breathed in deep; in that moment, he knew that he was the luckiest kid in the school.


End file.
